


Hazel

by ModernMistress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Dancing, Explicit Language, F/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:34:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5543510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernMistress/pseuds/ModernMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He had the most gentle of brown eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of my being."</p>
<p> "This stranger is different, he didn't make me feel filthy, but he made me feel vulnerable."</p>
<p> "This is not the ordinary."</p>
<p>Olivia's ordinary and mundane life is flipped upside down one evening by a mysterious stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mysterious Stranger

Do you ever feel like your life is stagnant? Nothing seems to be moving forward and life is just passing you by. Sometimes I feel as if the world is in fast forward around me and I'm stuck in rewind. My high school classmates are graduating college, getting married, having children. It has been five years after all. My life mostly consists of daydreaming, too many dreams for one lifetime. In my fantasies I may be an artist, or experiencing the many cultures the world has, or a performer on Broadway. Instead I am stuck in this monotonous routine and throwing my life away, while slowly trying to find what I'm meant to do in this life. Currently living day by day alone, the thought of a relationship just sickens me. I don't play well with others and it's easier to be on my own. Nobody to report to or worry about, just myself and complete freedom.

I quickly shake these thoughts away, if I keep in this mindset work will be tragic. I skip over to my speaker to turn on some music, the Beatles always pull me out of the fog. Looking in the mirror I have finished my transportation from ordinary Olivia to exotic Hazel. This must be what celebrities feel like before walking the red carpet, I always feel like a goddess after putting stage make up on.

My cheekbones are accentuated, my lashes frame my innocent blue eyes, and my full lips are perfectly outlined in red. Tonight my hair is cooperating, this is a rare occurrence, one that should be celebrated. My usual long brunette knots are hanging straight causing my hair to frame my slender face. All that is needed is a gown, preferably a luxurious black fitted dress. Created by a designer that the media are in awe of, one that everybody desires to have. My phone's alarm ends my day dreaming and reminds me of work.

Luckily, I packed my bag before the transformation process. Grabbing my keys off the counter, I quickly rush out the door. The first thing I always do, as I slide into my cramped Civic, is plug my phone to the auxiliary cord. Music is constantly playing through my day. Being able to lose myself in music, no matter the situation. Getting ready for a night at work is never a great thing and music is necessary to lift my mood. I arrive at work, rather too quickly for my liking, but on time.

Leisurely, I stroll through the doors and am greeted, "Good evening Hazel, I hope you're doing well tonight. Look beautiful as always." The door man is always a sweet heart, I've worked here for two years and have yet to ask his name. His name isn't important, none of our names here matter.

Entering the desolate locker room, I'm slightly shocked. Tonight may be tragic after all if there are only three dancers for the entire night. Quickly I strip down out of my clothes and change into my lingerie for the evening. Black lace and thigh highs seems like the right choice for tonight. Five years ago, the thought of stripping never crossed my mind. I perceived it as such a filthy and immoral thing to do, but desperate times happen.

Two years ago I found myself completely broke and unable to get a step up in this cruel world. My friend, Hannah, was kind enough to let me live with her rent free while I searched for job openings. After weeks of applying and continually getting turned down, I was as low as I could get. Hannah had been stripping for a few years and talked me into trying it for only a night. She promised that the night would bring me enough money to last for a few weeks, and I believed her. She made dancing sound like a dream job. Create your own schedule, enough money in a single night for rent, drink the night away while working. I gave in and decided to go with her one night and I've never turned back since.

The nights can be long, the clients can be ruthless, and my reputation can be damaged. Dancing has taught me my self-worth though, given me confidence, and I comfortably live because of my job. It's allowed me to be independent and not have to rely on anybody. It isn't a life time career, just a temporary thing until I figure my life out. Stripping has a bad stigma due to popular belief, but it isn't terrible if you follow the rules. Basically I'm a tease, a fantasy if you may. There is something fulfilling knowing that complete strangers are willing to waste their money on you. I'm not ashamed of showing my body, there is nothing wrong with nudity.

Tossing my bag into my locker I slam it shut as I get ready to enter the floor. Pausing in front of the full length mirror to admire myself. The black lace was a good decision as it clung seductively to my body. The dark fabric contrasted well with my fair skin, which works well with the club's black lights. Faintly,the outline of my nipples could be seen through the lace bra. Deciding on my 8" basic black heels was another good choice as it lengthened my short legs. Nobody assumes I'm an exotic dancer, I don't fit the stereotype that people hold in their minds. I'm very fit and healthy, drugs were never quite my thing. I'm quite average looking other than the few tattoos my body has, but tattoos are becoming the norm. My innocent demeanor works well for my job, it makes my customers lust after me more. Men fantasize over corrupting the innocent, as disturbing as that is.

Walking onto the floor my first stop is the bar. Liquor is necessary for work, it was the only way for me to loosen up and the owner doesn't mind. The bartender already knows my drink, shots of Patron are always the way to go. "Hazel, main stage," I hear called over the main speakers as I down the shot of liquor. The club has all of five men in it and they're all preoccupied with other dancers right now. Dancing on stage was not how you made your money, especially not on nights like this.

'Drop the Game' is the first song of the night it seems, always a good song to lose myself in. It's a slower song with a seductive beat, always helping me get into character. Provocatively I stroll onto the stage, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. Reaching my arms over my head while my hips sway to the music. Reaching for the pole, I decide to just warm up with some simple spins. Lifting myself, I hook my leg around the pole and extend my left leg. Continuing my spins and losing myself in the song, I catch a glimpse of a young man coming to my stage.

Now that I have a small audience of one I decide to do some more difficult tricks to impress them. Throwing my body upside down, I'm able to contort my body into the splits. After a few moments I flip myself to superman and am able to look at this stranger at my stage. His gaze met mine and I begin to assess him. He had to be in his early 20's, very confident in himself and had every right to be. There are plenty of clients here that wouldn't get the light of day from me if it wasn't my job. But I wouldn't mind giving this man plenty of my time.

He wasn't dressed in a business suit or slacks, his outfit was fairly simple. He had on black skinny jeans that hugged his body, but not too tightly. He wore a simple gray shirt that had a sight V-line, slight exposing a few stray chest hairs. It was difficult to see in the lighting, but it appeared he was wearing black oxfords as well. It was a simple wardrobe, but somehow it suited him perfectly. With his arms visible you were able to see countless tattoos ranging from arrows to an eagle.

He had the most gentle of brown eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of my being. His dark brown hair was messy, with some of it falling onto his forehead. It was short other than the top of his head, somehow the odd hairstyle suited him. In the club we usually see business men with their shaved heads, not men with an actual hair style. This mysterious stranger had the most perfect of lips that seemed to naturally pout. How I would love to take that plump bottom lip into my mouth, slightly sucking on it. Framing his mouth he had facial hair, which was neatly trimmed. It ran along his jaw and stopped mid cheek, thoughts of running my fingers over it flashed across my mind.

What is this boy doing to me? A few seconds looking at this impeccable man and I'm losing myself to fantasies. This doesn't happen, I refuse to let this happen. The clients aren't supposed to be my fantasy, I'm supposed to be theirs. Gracefully leaving the pole I remove my top as my second song starts. For the first time since I began dancing two years ago, I'm feeling timid. Why must the club be empty tonight? Why must I pay attention to this stranger? I'm not one to back down and I decide to entertain as usual.

Getting on my knees I begin to slowly crawl over to this handsome man who refuses to break eye contact. His confidence is a fucking turn on, I've always enjoyed cocky son of a bitches. As I get closer to him I realize he's more beautiful up close than from afar. His face was so gentle and kind. Typically the men are drunk old men who are there cheating on their wives, who want nothing but to attempt to fuck me. This stranger is different, he didn't make me feel filthy, but he made me feel vulnerable. The look on his face made me want to climb into those strong tattooed arms and never leave them. I'm not sure this feeling is welcomed, I'm too independent to be held by anybody.

I reach the edge of the stage and swing my legs off the edge. Spreading my legs I put my heels on the arm rests of his chair, his eyes refusing to leave mine. Running my hands down my short legs I catch a scent from him. He smells like fresh cotton on a spring day, the scent that the wind carries during April. It's refreshing compared to the cheap musky cologne most men wear, I wouldn't be surprised if this was his natural scent. Tilting my head to the left I slowly bite my lip as I sit back up.

Leaning back I lift my hips off the stage and sway them to the music. As I lower my hips back to the stage I see a twenty beside me that the stranger set. "Thank you," I purr as I lift my legs to slam my heels together.

I twist my body to the side enabling myself to stare at this beautiful man. "No problem love," he replied as he slipped me another twenty onto the stage. No customer has called me love and most of them shove money into my G-string, not respectively set it on the stage. This is not the ordinary.

The song was coming to an end, which meant my time on stage was as well. Snatching the twenty off the stage I slide over to retrieve my bra. Rushing into the locker room I sit on the bench putting my head into my hands. Why is this guy even here, obviously he isn't the normal scum I encounter. If that wasn't enough to throw me into a loop, I'm fantasizing about him. It's been over three years since I've been remotely attracted to someone, there is always a connection lacking. But there was a spark between us immediately, on my end at least. Opening my locker I take swig of my liquor I brought with me, hoping it will drown my thoughts of this mysterious man.


	2. Distractions

Anxiously I peek behind the curtain that hides the locker room. My mysterious stranger has moved away from the stage, although one of our most popular dancers was performing. Stella was a house favorite, constantly back in the VIP rooms and making money I could only fantasize about.

Stella was 5'8 without heels and she towered over my height of 5'2. She had long lean legs that matched her elegant body. Stella has received several breast implants to become a whopping 34 DD, which I had an average 34 B. Her jet black hair fell along her hips in large curls and bounced as she moved. Her large venomous green eyes were framed by long dark lashes. She was everything I wasn't. We were opposites in everything, including our work ethic. She played dirty and it was better to just stay out of her way, away from her clients. She was known for giving extras, which is partly why she would spend the entire night in the VIP rooms. Not once have I even considered giving extras, that just wasn't who I was. The one thing I had that she didn't was a nice ass, one that I was always complimented on

Stella finished her performance on stage and made her way to the bar. Glancing in that direction I discovered why she was in a rush, my stranger was there. He was staring at the TV watching the football game and sipping on a beer. Still looking gentle and kind, he seemed to be lost in his own world.

Stella slid in the seat next to him and ran her fingers across the back of his neck. I was too far away to see what was being said, but seeing her fingers on his neck made jealousy rear its head. He turned to her and kindly removed her hand, but they continued to chat. This man was mine, Stella should not be speaking to him. He deserved far better than her and her dirty ways, but who was to say he would think any better of me. After all, we are just strippers in his eyes. Stella set her hand on his upper thigh and began rubbing it, that was when I snapped.

To hell with staying away from Stella's clients, I will gladly pay the consequences later. She needs to get away from him now. Quickly rushing over to the bar, I jump into the empty chair on the other side of this stranger. "Well hello there, I'm Hazel," I sweetly say as I always do when introducing myself.

He turned slowly towards me and I was met with those warm brown eyes again. Eyes that I could stare into for days. "Hello love, I'm Liam," he politely said and put his hand out for me to shake. Gently I set my hand in his palm and he wrapped his long fingers around my hand and squeezed it slightly. His skin was warm and soft, I never wanted him to let go. To my disappointment, he pulled his hand away and left my skin tingling from where we touched.

"Liam, how about we go to the back where I can show you a good time," Stella purred and cut her eyes towards me. If looks could kill I would've been dead right there in that chair, but I glared back at her refusing to back down.

"I think I'd rather finish watching the game, maybe another lad will enjoy that good time," Liam calmly responded. Stella wasn't too thrilled with being rejected, as that rarely happens. She threw her shot back, that I assume Liam bought for her, and stormed off in the direction of the locker room.

Now that I had this fascinating man alone I was at a loss for words. There was an energy between us, I wonder if he felt it. Nervous and unsure of what to do I began chewing on my bottom lip. A nervous tick that I've had for as long as I can remember.

"Can I get you a drink?" Liam spoke pulling me out of my mind.

"Yes, that would lovely. The bartender already knows what I'll have," I respond quietly. My heart is beating hard and my chest feels tight. Olivia, you are at work and are supposed to be professional. Quit acting like a school girl, that doesn't pay the bills.

"So how is your evening going so far?" I say trying to start conversation. Reminding myself he is just another customer.

"Pretty laid back evening, quite unusual for me to have time to relax. My life can be a bit hectic at times, never able to get a moment to myself." A pretty typical response from most men here. Many of them are busy with wives and children, they come here to escape from that.

"Well you chose a good night to come here if you're wanting a moment to yourself. The club is nearly empty, a rare occasion on a weekend."

He didn't respond, only nodded. "What do you do for a living?" That was my next question in line. Being a dancer you have a script you go through when first talking to someone. It can help you warm up to somebody and ease into comfortable conversation.

"I'm actually in a band," he coolly says as a small smirk spread across his face. Before I can respond, the bartender has put our shots on the counter.

"Tequila? Interesting choice of liquor," He says eyeing the lime on the brim of my glass.

"I'm an interesting gal," I reply cocking an eyebrow, clinking my glass with his. We both watched each other as we threw our shots back, never breaking eye contact.

"So, I would like to know more about this band you speak of."

"Well, been a part of the band for about five years. It's amazing getting to perform with some of my best friends and performing songs I've written is an unexplainable feeling. It's all great fun, exhausting, but living the dream."

As he spoke about his band, there was a spark in his eyes. You could tell he was passionate about music, one day I'd love to hear one of his written songs. Music was something I always enjoyed, not a great singer, but I liked it. Wasn't that the important thing anyways? 

Before I could reply I heard my name over the main speaker, "Hazel, second stage." The joys of having few dancers working and being on the floor. This is typically when you lost a customer, another girl would come and snatch them up. Normally I didn't care, but I didn't want to leave this boy. 

"I'm sorry, it's my turn to go on stage. I'll be back though," I promised with my large eyes, silently begging him to wait.

He nodded with a small smile as I left to head towards second stage. Second stage was much smaller in comparison to main stage. The main stage had two poles and was open, stage two was one pole on a 4 foot table. Very little moving room, not a great stage to be on. There have been numerous spilled drinks because of the limited space on second stage. The other terrible thing about stage two is that it isn't your song selection, you dance to whoever main stage's performer is. 

The first song that blares over the speakers is unrecognizable. I can't recall hearing it before. When in doubt, stick to the pole. You don't have to know the rhythm or beat to do tricks. While losing myself in tricks, I also lose track of wherever Liam went. I don't see him at the bar anymore, the thought of him leaving flashes across my mind. That would completely ruin my night, or even worse, if he agreed to a VIP room. The song ended and as the next song began, I started to laugh to myself. 

'All About That Bass' starts playing, it's difficult to be seductive to radio pop. Films often have strip clubs playing rock songs about sex and drugs, but that is a false assumption. Clubs play radio pop more often than not, there have been times I've been forced to dance to Taylor Swift. Looking to main stage to see who would've requested this song and it's Barbie. This is the only song she enjoys dancing to. Barbie is known for performing head stands on stage, while shaking her ass. A bit strange if you ask my opinion.

As I begin dancing to the song I make the decision to have fun with it. I'm prancing around the small stage as Liam strolls in the front doors. He sees me bouncing back and forth on stage and he breaks out in the most breath taking smile. His eyes squint to the smallest of slits possible where they are barely visible. He reminds me of a large puppy, a puppy I want to take home with me. This boy was literal sunshine. 

I couldn't hold back a smile and continued my prancing and shaking my hips. I was going to do everything in my power to keep this boy smiling. 

Liam took a seat in front of my stage. I was dancing as if I was alone in my room dancing to the radio. One of the best times I've had at work, never have I smiled this much in a night at the club. The song ended and I followed Liam as he walked to a booth in the corner.

He stepped to the side to allow me to slide in first. There are booths around all the sides of the main floor in the club. They form a comfortable and private setting rather than the bar or tables. We're in the more secluded corner of the club where we are surely to be left alone. Liam sits close to me, but we're not touching. He wasn't close enough for my liking.

I feel the electricity between us again, oh how I wish he was sitting a few inches closer.

"I thought you had gone and left," I said sticking out my plump bottom lip.

"Not a chance," he teased me as he winked. Thankfully the club was dark because I could feel a blush creeping across my cheeks.

"Hazel, may I ask what your real name is?"

We're never meant to give out our names to customers, it's a club rule for our protection. Most clients know that we go by a stage name and we typically get asked our real names. Usually I'll give out a false name and they believe me, they don't know any better. For an unknown reason, I wanted Liam to know my name. I wanted to tell him every detail of my life and I wanted to hear about his.

This stranger could be a murderer, he could stalk me once he knows my name. After all, I did meet him an hour ago.

"My name is Olivia," I blurted out before my brain could register what I did.

"Olivia, what a coincidence. My band has a song titled 'Olivia'."

"Hopefully that's a positive thing," I jokingly ask.

"Oh yeah, one of the other lads wrote it, but it's an amazing song. You should listen to it sometime," he spoke as that passion flickered across his face. This boy was passionate about his career and it was visible anytime he mentioned music.

Passion is the drive behind everything in life. Without passion there is no sense of direction, no meaning. The issue in my life is that I'm too passionate about many different things. Dance, music, traveling, writing, fashion, the world. I have passion for all these things, whether I'm good at them or not. It's difficult to find one thing and to stick to it. Instead I'm wandering through my life as if I'm a lost child, never finding where my true home is.

"I'm sure I would love it, especially since it has my name-"

I stop mid-sentence because of Stella who interrupts our private conversation. She moves in close to Liam and throws her legs over Liam's lap. She wraps an arm around pulls herself body closer to him.

"I see that you're done watching the game now, how about we go to the back. Show you how naughty of a girl I can be," she says slightly pouting her lip out. The fact that her lines typically work with men disgusts me.

She is desperate tonight for Liam and not only because the club is nearly empty. Stella knows he isn't the usual client we get in here. She can see there is something special about him, yet I figure we admire different things about him.

"Actually, Hazel and I are already going to get a private room," Liam says confidently. "If you would kindly excuse us."

The moment the words leave his lips my stomach knots up. Private rooms are typically my favorite place to be. They are secluded, you're off the main floor, and it's where you make a majority of your money. You're stripped down to everything but a G-string, but honestly it is pretty easy money to just grind on a customer's hard cock. There were the occasional bad nights where a client may cum on you or pull out their member. I've even had a client pin me down and give me a hickey, but those are rare occasions luckily.

There was no part of me that wanted to grind on Liam, at least not while I'm Hazel the exotic dancer.

Liam pushed Stella out of the way and grabbed my hand to lead me. My skin was on fire from his touch. As we brushed by Stella, she was cursing under her breath. I'd have to watch my back tonight, she was pissed. "Fucking no good cunt," Stella whispered harshly to me.

I glanced back at her and winked.

I'm not sure if Liam heard her, but he led me in front of him and set his hand on my lower back. His hand sent a shock through my body that caused chills to spread across my skin.

Many guys put their hands on my body, but they were greedy and did it out of lust. Liam's touch felt protective and comforting.

We made it to the counter where you pay for a VIP room. At this counter you choose how long you'd like a room and what Liquor you'd prefer.

"Hello Hazel, how long would you like a room for?" my manager asked.

Questioningly my eyes met Liam's. I was unsure of what was about to happen and how much money he had to spend. Rooms were available anywhere between fifteen minutes to three hours. The prices started at $300 and went as high as $4,000.

Glancing at the clock I saw that it was already midnight. The club closed down at two, which meant the maximum time available for a room was two hours.

"We'd like a room for two hours please," Liam stated.

My breath caught, I couldn't allow him to spend $3,000 on me. There was no way for him to have that kind of money. If he was that financially secure, I didn't feel comfortable taking his money.

"Your total comes to $3,000 and what type of liquor would you like. You get choice of top shelf," my manager spoke her normal routine.

"I would like just a whiskey and Coke please," Liam spoke as he began rubbing his thumb on my back. The small act comforted me, I guess I was use to men groping me as they bought a room. This change was welcomed but unknown.

Liam pulled out a card and slid it to my manager, apparently not bothered by the price.

"Hazel, New York is open if you'd like that room," my manager offered as she handled the transaction.

"That would be great," I responded while leading Liam to the room.

Our private rooms have their own themes. This just means the wall is painted with a specific destination. There is Las Vegas, Hollywood, New York, and London. Every room has two walls of floor to ceiling mirrors with a couch and a television. The television showed main stage on the floor. I never understood why a man would want to watch main stage when they had a naked dancer in front of them to touch. Men were never satisfied, they always wanted more.

"This is a pretty nice place, I have to admit," Liam spoke in approval nodding at the room.

"It has its moments I guess," I shrugged my shoulders. Of strips clubs this was an amazing place, it wasn't trashy or dangerous. If you've worked at strip clubs around the country then you've seen them all. This was a smaller club, but high end for this area of the country.

My manager brought our drinks and let us know that are time started now for the room.

My nerves kicked into high gear and I felt the panic start. The first thing you're supposed to do in a private room is strip down, but I didn't want to do that. I wanted to run home and curl up in my bed, I wanted to be Olivia. Taking a deep breath I began to remove my shoes, that was the only good thing to come from stripping down.

Once removing both my heels Liam began laughing with that breath taking smile again.

"May I ask what is so humorous?" I asked as I cocked a brow.

"You're so small without your shoes on. It's cute," he said continuing with his laughter.

His laughter didn't faze me, it meant I was graced with seeing that smile again. The smile where his face crinkled and the whole room seemed to be brightened by.

His smile was contagious and I was unable to hold back a smirk as I peeked over at him.

He was sitting on the couch with his arms spread out on the back. He looked comfortable and relaxed, while I was falling apart inside. Gathering my courage I reached back to unhook my bra.

"Oh love, no need to do that," Liam quickly interrupted shaking his head.

"Are you sure? It's routine to strip down before we start dancing for you."

"The only reason we're back here is because I was getting frustrated with our interruptions, especially from that other dancer. I'm not wanting you to strip down or dance for me, I'd like to just talk if that's alright," he spoke sweetly.

"Anything you want goes," I spoke unsure of how to react. My breath caught in my throat knowing he spent that amount of money to escape from interruptions.

Sitting on the couch close to him, but not touching, I was unsure of what to say. The guilt from him paying for this room washed over me. Typically taking money from customers didn't faze me, it was their own issue if they spent their money. But this stranger spent a couple grand to talk to me, it didn't make any sense.

The guilt must have shown on my face. "Don't feel guilty, there is no need for that," Liam spoke gently to me as he reached to pick my chin up.

"You spent a large amount of money to escape distractions to be able to talk me. How could I not I feel guilty, I'm not wanting your money."

"Trust me, I have more money than I know what to do with. I'm not telling you that to boast, but hoping it will stop your guilt."

Something inside told me he was being honest. Nodding my head I flashed him a polite smile.

"Since you have me for a while, what would you like to talk about?" I asked. Unsure of what to do in a private room without dancing, talking was not my strongest skill.

"We can talk about anything babe, do you like dogs?" he said as while raising both eye brows.

I chuckle at the spontaneity of his question, "of course I love dogs!"

"I have a massive Great Dane named Watson. Absolutely love him! He's one of the most amazing dogs I've had, would you like to see a picture?"

"Is that even a question," I rhetorically ask. I'm in love with animals and the bigger the better.

Liam pulls out his phone and scrolls for a few seconds. Turning his phone to me I am met with a photo of a dog the size of a small horse. Watson was a pale black and was next to the fridge in the photo. Watson rose above Liam's waist while standing on all four paws and was beyond adorable.

"He is huge, but I think I'm in love with him. I don't have a dog, but I do have a cat named Peaches."

Peaches had been a part of my family for three years now, just her and I. She was a cream colored cat and had a personality of her own. She was an odd one, at times she acted more human than feline.

"I would show you a picture, but we're not allowed to have our phones with us on the floor. She is an odd one, but we get along well," I continue on.

"Awe, well you can always show me another time," Liam responded.

What did he mean by that? Would he be coming back to the club? Was he planning on seeing me once again? Butterflies began forming in my stomach and fluttering around. Thinking about what he said caused my skin to flush and chills run across my body. I felt as if I was a young girl crushing on a classmate. But this crush wasn't as innocent as a child's, mine had a darker side.

I slipped into my daydream where I'm in Liam's bedroom. Just getting home from a night out, I'm wearing a well fitted cocktail dress. He hikes my dress up exposing my bare ass and lifts me up in his arms. Our mouths frantically meet as I wrap my legs around him, feeling his hard cock pressed against me. Just the thought of being so close to him causes my body to shudder in response.

"Are you cold, it is a bit chilly in here," Liam said breaking me out of my fantasy.

"I'm a little cold, I'm typically moving around and dancing. This is the first time I've just sat and talked."

Liam opens his arm and says, "come here then."

He's offering for me to lay inside his arms, my heart begins to pound erratically. This is what I've been thinking of since I first laid eyes on him. Scooting closer to him I pull myself close to his side.

I could feel the heat radiating through his simple gray shirt. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and, without thinking, I laid my head on his chest. Inwardly I released a sigh, this felt like home. This stranger's arm gave me a sense of security that I had never had before.

Wishing this night would never end, but reality would soon have to be faced as usual. Reality was harsh and cruel, she didn't give mercy to anyone. When final call is made, Liam will leave and never think back to this night. My heart would be crushed, but I've always been able to put it back together. Shaking my head, I pull myself out of the thick fog my mind is in. Even if tonight is going to end, I may as well enjoy the moment.

Liam moved his hand to my hair and began running his hand through my hair. My entire body relaxed and I fell deeper into his arms. Maybe being held wasn't such a terrible thing after all...


End file.
